fizzle out, burn bright
by jeremybekah
Summary: Simon knows he will live countless lifetimes without Isabelle. But first, they have their moments. Sizzy drabbles
1. 1: Eternity

Isabelle has always blazed into his life. He cannot remember a time when she hasn't exploded into his eyesight, except, perhaps ironically, the very first time they met. She was simply cooking in the Institute's kitchen – and at that point, he'd actually been _willing_ to eat whatever she made, he'd since learnt better – and lecturing Jace. It was funny; to think they had started out so quietly.

Today, however, was no different from the usual. Isabelle had let herself in. He was startled to look up at her – she appeared to be smiling, but below that, he could see the shakiness in her hands, the tightness of her eyes. "What's wrong?" Simon asked, cautiously. He feared it was unlikely he'd want to hear the answer.

"Magnus and Alec," Isabelle replied. Simon was alarmed; now it seemed as though she was holding back tears. He adored Isabelle, really, he did, but a crying girl was a crying girl. "They broke up." She raised her head, nodding at him. "They broke up," she repeated, in a tone without any insinuations, or indeed, inflection. "Because there's an eternity between them."

And it hit him, what she was saying. He'd thought about it before, how could he not? Yet, somehow, he'd never put it to Izzy. He'd never thought that she and he would be affected by it. Or maybe he had, and he simply hadn't wanted to be the first to say it out loud. He remembered drinking her blood, the delicious sweetness she had – it went right along with her infectious laugh, those eyes so determined and piercing. Isabelle always saw right through him. Most days he wanted her to.

Most days. He eyed her worriedly as she gave a bitter snort, "Who would have thought _you'd_ be the one to leave _me_ behind?" Simon knew not to be offended. Isabelle was blunt, just as she was beautiful. Her barbs couldn't sting if he didn't let them. He knew she was only scared. He longed to wrap his arms around her, but for some inexplicable reason, he couldn't make himself move. "You will, though. You'll be young forever, you'll want adventure and freedom and… and beauty that never fades." Isabelle looked down again, and he could see the tears clinging to her long lashes this time. It was a sore spot with Isabelle, he knew… this insecurity. It came from her scars, her killing scars. He couldn't imagine any reason he wouldn't find her beautiful. He would always see her as beautiful.

Simon found his feet. He traced a long white zigzag on her right arm, and reached for her hand. "Isabelle," he began, only to find her finger on his lips and her glare like thunder. He quietened immediately. He was no coward, but as sweet as she could look, Isabelle Lightwood was the deadliest angel he'd ever encountered.

"Don't start, Lewis," she growled. He almost smirked, as un-Simon-like as it felt, and wondered what she would do if he licked her finger. Somehow he thought she might not be prepared for that sort of tactic. All the superhuman training in the world couldn't compare to middle school warfare. Of course, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't then suck into the rest of her delicate skin. Perhaps he had better not. "I don't want to hear any of your stuttering. This is how it's going to be." He nodded along with a charming smile, knowing that arguing was futile. "You will not be breaking up with me. You will not be finding some pretty little blonde vampire that can keep up with you over the years. Because, trust me, if I find you cheating on me, and I _will_ find out, I won't have any problem breaking the Accords to show her who you belong to. You hear me?" Isabelle said it with her usual fierceness, that tough nitty-gritty Shadowhunter attitude that equally enthralled and irritated him.

Simon knew his eyes had softened as she rolled her own. Sometimes he had to wonder if she really was as constantly exasperated with him as she appeared. "There's no one I want more than you, Iz," he shrugged. It was the truth. "Never will be." For one thing, he really might need that smile of hers to survive.

Simon knew the fear bubbling up inside him couldn't be ignored. Life without any of those he loved was an unbearable thought. But, perhaps, it could be for another day. He took a double-take, "Wait, Alec and Magnus split up?" He gave her a look of mock-horror, "But Magnus was going to let me borrow his lederhosen."

Isabelle smacked him. It hurt. Supernatural pop culture had not prepared him for Isabelle in the slightest. "Don't you dare laugh, vampire. This is serious."

He grabbed her offending hand and stroked her fingers gently, "Nah, no way. Those two? Back together by next week."

She smiled faintly, "I hope so. Alec hasn't smiled since he told us." She loved her brother so very much. He had used to wonder if her love for Alec had taken up her whole heart. He knew now that nobody had a bigger heart than Isabelle. She suddenly wrinkled her eyebrows, "Lederhosen? I will kill Magnus. Bad enough he can't remember your name, now he wants to make you look ridiculous?"

Simon laughed, "Better you than I."

"Us," Isabelle corrected gently, "I think 'us' sounds better."

* * *

**A collection of sizzy drabbles. Please request a drabble at my tumblr, seveninchessimon. Comments are welcome!**


	2. 2: Anniversary

Jace claps him on the shoulder. Simon winces; as much as he's learnt to like Jace, moments like these make him nervous. The Shadowhunter is unpredictable, and occasionally hostile towards his relationship with Isabelle. When he isn't busy mocking it, that is.

"You don't look appropriately flustered," Jace squints at him, and Simon can see that he is holding back a smirk. The pretence the other boy is putting on hardly calms his nerves. He wishes that Clary was here to protect him from her slightly insane boyfriend. "Don't tell me you've forgotten. Isabelle will eat you alive. Not in the good way." Now he is smirking.

Simon sighs. Sometimes he has the realisation that Magnus really is his favourite of all his new "friends". Which is more than a little depressing. And glittery. He tries not to think about that part. "Jace, if there's something you want to say, by all means. Go ahead." He doesn't have the time for games. Especially as there's a panic rising in him. He's forgotten something. He must have. Jace doesn't start anything he can't win.

"Well, it wouldn't be much fun if I simply told you. No boyfriend points for that." Jace is barely concealing his gloating now and Simon has the urge to punch him. After all, Jace would get the blame; from Clary, from Isabelle. Who would be smirking then?

Right. Still Jace.

He tries to fight back with the only weapon he has. "I'm flattered, really and truly. Yet, I'm just not that into you."

"I kissed Alec once." Jace doesn't look bothered. Simon has to wonder. "Homosexual panic won't get to me. Good try. Although, that's not exactly accurate. If it was a _good try,_ it would have worked." Simon rolls his eyes – it's a common action around Jace, he's noticed.

"As much as I'd like to hear the rest of the story about your adolescent confusion, can you just get to the point?"

Jace gives an overdramatic sigh, "I don't know what Isabelle sees in you. I thought vampires were supposed to be good with _dates_? That's what bad movie nights with Clary led me to believe. I wasn't surprised, to be honest," he eyes Simon with a frown, "You're exactly the type to be immortal and have the world at your feet, yet still be stuck getting thrills from showing off in history class."

He was beginning to get frustrated. Even if this was something he ought to be getting used to – after all, between Isabelle and Clary, he knew he had a lifetime of Jace – the wisecracks were grating on him. "If you just want to insult me, how about you give one last parting shot and we'll call it even?"

"And here I thought we were friends," Jace's smirk is full-blown. It annoys Simon, the way he smooths over his face like a mask. Of course, Clary can always tell how Jace is feeling. He suspects Alec and Isabelle know as well. He's the only one out of the loop. Out of the special Shadowhunter club they have. He is the one who isn't human. He almost misses the days they called him 'mundane'. But he didn't have Isabelle then. "Fine, we'll play it your way, vampire." Jace knows how much he hates being called that. As if he's an 'it'. "Isn't Isabelle starting to drag on you a little? You're realising you've been together a long time, maybe a little too long? Like, a whole year of putting up with her attitude?"

Now it hits him, what Jace is saying. "It's our anniversary," Simon says, dumbfounded. A whole year with Isabelle. He's fairly certain that no one believed this day would come. He marvels at the thought – it feels almost as good as when her hand is in his. Quickly brushing past Jace, he makes a quick exit. Izzy will kill him if he doesn't make a fuss over her.

S&I

A pair of freckled arms encircle Jace's waist and he grins, turning himself around. Clary is smiling at him – she always smiles at him. He loves her for that simple act.

"That was sweet of you," she grins now, teasing him a little. He almost hates that she understands him so well. "Saving Simon's skin like that. One would almost think you're invested in their relationship."

He knows exactly what she's getting at. He puts on a haughty scowl. "Not at all. I just don't want to hear Izzy complaining about her boyfriend's blood on her new shoes." A beat passes. Jace wraps his arm around her shoulders and gives her a imploring smile "Do you think you could remind Isabelle?" After all, he can hardly rely on his sister to have remembered such an important date.

Clary just laughs.


	3. 3: Fight

"You're such a coward, Isabelle Lightwood." Simon grinned at her. If there was one word that made Izzy rise to the bait, it was 'coward'. Such a lie it was, how anyone could look at Izzy and come up with coward was beyond him.

Isabelle glared at him. He attempted to sober his expression. He suspected he failed. "I will not meet your sister, because she will hate me and you will break up with me. Not because I'm scared, so get that straight, _Simon Lewis_." It would be foolishly optimistic to believe she wasn't mocking him.

Simon shook his head in disbelief, "Seriously, I have to interact with Jace on a daily basis. Hell, even Alec hates me. You've got no excuse, Iz. Time to man up."

He knew he'd said the wrong thing before the words left his mouth.

Isabelle's eyes flashed furiously. He could practically see her fingers twitching for her whip – cunningly disguised as a bracelet for the unsuspecting walking dead man. This was of course, exactly what Simon was. "That's the problem with you mundanes," she sneered, apparently momentarily forgetting that Simon could no longer be classified as a mundane. "You're all about men, men, men. I could snap your spine in seconds, you know."

Simon nodded. He'd long accepted that this was never going to be a normal relationship. Death threats – or at least, extreme violence – was just another thing to love about Isabelle Lightwood. With that in mind, he gave her somewhat of a feeble smile, "Discuss that with Becky." Maybe if he acted as though she'd agreed to come, Iz would go along with it. Simon gave himself a mental pat on the back for the strategic thinking. "She's quite take–charge-and-kill-all-the-men-we-can-repopulate-the-planet-without-them herself."

Isabelle suddenly smirked. Simon's attention was immediately captured by this movement of her cherry red lips. "I never said anything about wanting to repopulate without your assistance, Simon." She leant towards him, softly beckoning with an outstretched hand that she then wrapped around his neck.

Simon gulped. He could already feel his mind turning blank of all thoughts, except one: Isabelle. He knew exactly what she was doing. _She_ knew exactly what she was doing. "Unfair warfare." Simon exclaimed, with a slightly bitter tone. This was the only reason Izzy always won.

Isabelle shrugged, "A girl's got to use her natural feminine superiority every so often."

He could only continue to pout as her lips lowered onto his. Any other plans for the day were forgotten as the heat that spread between them took hold of him and instincts became all he knew. Instincts, and Izzy.

Had they been fighting? He couldn't quite recall "Oh, Simon," Isabelle whispered into his ear. Having her close would never become anything less than incredible, "I'm sure _you_ could seduce _me_ if you tried."

"Your confidence is uplifting," Simon remarked, quite calmly despite the emotions churning inside of him. "I almost feel ready to campaign for President or some such grand achievement."

Isabelle cocked her head to one side, "Would you rather regale me with your delightful quips or make out with me?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting a certain answer.

"The latter," he added hastily. Always the latter.


	4. 4: Beginning

Simon dragged a hand over his eyes. The bright light of the early morning sun was glaring at him. Almost as if it knew his thoughts. And disapproved.

He knew he himself disapproved. He was being cowardly.

He had to do this. Didn't he?

But he couldn't. He simply couldn't.

His eyes ached as he continued to force them to look into the sun. It reminded him of so many things – if it hadn't been for drinking Jace's blood, he wouldn't even be capable of enjoying sunlight. Simon ought to remember that more often. He was lucky.

Others of his kind were not.

Yet, he didn't feel lucky. He felt as if it would have been better, so infinitely better if he had never become a vampire. Never become a part of this life. Never even met Clary, if possible.

Never met Isabelle.

The pain crushed down on him once again. It was indescribable, at one moment a dull ache, the next, an unmovable heaviness. This was worse than bloodlust. Worse than the feeling of killing. A rush of hysterical laughter escaped his lips. Who would ever have thought he'd discover something he hated more than that of taking another's life?

He hadn't thought it would be like this, in the beginning. He'd imagined their days together would stretch upon eternity. It hadn't. She hadn't.

He was attending Isabelle's – not Iz, not Izzy's - funeral today.

Simon couldn't face this. He never wanted to live forever. He hadn't realised just how much it would hurt, having her and then not. He hated his younger self for this, for being so selfish as to have had Isabelle Lightwood in his life. If only he'd not made that mistake. If only he could still hear her laughter. He realised that one day he wouldn't even be able to imagine the sound.

Simon's senses picked up the footsteps that were trying to remain anonymous. He sighed, clenching his fists angrily, "What do you want, Magnus?" He turned to face the warlock. His friend of a sort. Or the man he'd still consider a friend, if he'd at least tried to save Isabelle. "I told you to leave me alone today. I don't want company." Not company that isn't hers.

Magnus' grim expression didn't do wonders for his mood. "I told you that you and I would be the only two left. That starts today, I'm afraid. There's somewhere you have to be, and you know it." Simon could tell this was Magnus' way of trying to be helpful.

"I don't want to be there," His voice cracked. Any other time he might be embarrassed by that. Not today. Never again, perhaps. Maybe all his feelings would die with her, the girl he'd never thought would be his. "She isn't just a body to be buried. Not just another of their fallen warriors. I won't see Isabelle like that. I won't."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It didn't comfort him. "I know," Magnus said, with a surprising clarity. Simon supposed in the rest of his living hell he'd achieve that type of understanding just the same. Clary would be proud. Jace would snicker.

Isabelle would roll her eyes.

God, (_he almost jumped in shock, finally he could say it, finally, he'd stopped believing, no surprise that it had taken Isabelle's death for his faith to leave him) _he wished for the beginning.


End file.
